


topsy-turvy

by doop_doop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Happy Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 15:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doop_doop/pseuds/doop_doop
Summary: “I was just kinda wondering… do you ever feel like you want to, I dunno, mix things up a bit?”“I’m perfectly content with the sex we have,” Linhardt says. “Are you referring to the positions, or the people involved? Because if it’s the latter-”“No!” Caspar says quickly, “no, not like that! Haha, no, I was just wondering if you like always  being, you know… on the bottom.”Caspar gets an idea.





	topsy-turvy

“Hey, Linhardt, do you… enjoy sex?” 

Linhardt looks at Caspar sharply. Normally it would irk him to be interrupted when in the middle of reading, but the question is so out of the blue he can only feel surprise. 

“I think sex with you is generally quite enjoyable, yes,” he says. Caspar’s body language suggestions he is nervous; this is going to be a Conversation, Linhardt can just tell. 

“Good,” Caspar says, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “Good! That’s good. Me too.” 

Linhardt glances down at his book, although he doesn’t begin reading again; and a good thing too, because it’s only a few seconds later that Caspar speaks again.

“I was just kinda wondering… do you ever feel like you want to, I dunno, mix things up a bit?”

“Are you still referring to sex?” 

“Yeah,” Caspar says, his cheeks turning a little pink. 

“Then I’m not sure what you mean,” Linhardt says. “I’m perfectly content with the sex we have. Are you referring to the positions, or the people involved? Because if it’s the latter-”

“No!” Caspar says quickly, “no, not like that! Haha,  _ no, _ I was just wondering if you like always being, you know… on the bottom.”

“Oh.” Linhardt rests his chin on a hand. “I’ve never  _ not  _ done it that way. Frankly, I think I’d be terrible at being the one on top. You always end up working so hard. It seems like a lot of effort.” 

Caspar’s pink cheeks have turned to a full-on blush now. It’s endearing that they’ve been together upwards of a year now, they’ve had sex far more times than he can count, and yet Caspar still can’t talk plainly about it without embarrassment. Whatever this conversation is about must have been a thorn in his side for ages, for him to bring it up at all.

“Aren’t you curious?” Caspar says. Linhardt knows the words have a second meaning - that Caspar himself is curious, too. But Caspar has a funny, roundabout way of doing things sometimes, and this seems to be a problem he’s attacking from the side.

“I suppose I am curious,” Linhardt says. “You do always seem to enjoy yourself.”

“I - you do too! ...Don’t you?”

“Of course,” Linhardt says. “That’s what I was just saying.  _ I’m  _ not the one who’s asking to ‘mix it up.” He pauses. He doesn’t want to come off too harsh. “Yes, I am curious about being on top, but if I were to do it, I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin. And, like I said, I think I’d be awful.”

“No, you wouldn’t have to do anything,” Caspar says - so quickly that Linhardt knows with utter certainty that he’s thought this through already.

Linhard raises an eyebrow. “Please explain.”

“I, ah, I mean, I can take care of myself,” Caspar says. “Get myself ready. And you can just lie there. I’ll - go on top of you.”

“Oh.” Linhardt purses his lips, thinking. It’s a position they don’t do frequently, mostly on account of Linhardt’s laziness; when he does ride Caspar in that way, Caspar usually gets impatient and takes control back soon after they begin. But the idea of lying back and letting  _ Caspar _ do the work… it’s appealing. “I certainly wouldn’t object to that.”

“You - you want to try it?” Caspar’s tone is breathless; he doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. When Linhardt nods, he leaps to his feet, crossing the room in a few steps. He sets the book on a nearby table, then grabs Linhardt’s hands and tugs him to his feet. “Let’s go!”

“Pushy,” Lindhardt says, pouting - he lost his page; but he lets Caspar lead him to the bedroom. The truth is, he’s eager for this too. 

As soon as they step inside, Caspar’s kissing him, rough and messy. Linhardt feels his hands running up and down his body, lingering on the small of his back, the curve of his backside. It doesn’t take long for Linhardt to get hard, not like this, with Caspar so needy and touchy. 

“Okay,” Caspar says, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. “Take off your clothes.”

“You’re being bossy.” 

“Yeah, so!” Caspar grins. “You like it!”

Linhardt can’t deny it, so instead he strips, feeling Caspar’s eyes on him the whole time. Caspar is there as soon as he’s naked, half-guiding, half-pushing him onto the bed.

Linhardt’s head hits the pillow, and Caspar straddles him. He must have stripped at the same time as Linhardt, because they’re both naked; the rub of skin on skin is delightful. Linhardt reaches out his hands to stroke Caspar’s legs, only to have them grabbed by the wrists and held in place.

“What are you doing?” Linhardt asks, amused. “Are you off-limits now?”

“I told you, I don’t want you to do  _ anything,” _ Caspar says, dropping Linhardt’s arms. “Stay there. I’ve got an idea.” 

He returns with something in his hands - a bandage, unused. He pauses, his eyes meeting Linhardt’s in an unspoken question. Linhardt nods mutely, and Caspar reaches forward to tie his hands to the headboard.

“Too tight?” Caspar asks. 

Linhardt tests his bonds. “No, it feels fine.”

Caspar straddles him again, but this time Linhardt can’t reach out and touch him. They’ve never done this before, never used any kind of restraints, and the sensation’s a hard one to get used to. Caspar seems to sense this; he pauses and gives Linhardt a significant look. “Tell me if you want me to undo that, okay? Or if you want to stop. Or anything.” 

“Of course,” Linhardt says. “It feels a little strange, but certainly not bad. And I trust you.” 

It wasn’t his intention to get Caspar excited all over again, but his words seem to have that effect anyway; as soon as he’s done speaking Linhardt’s being kissed, and Caspar’s hands are in his hair, ruffling it, stroking it. 

“I love you, Lin,” Caspar says, pulling away just for a moment, just enough to speak the words. His breath is hot on Linhardt’s face.

“I love you too.” 

“And I’m going to take care of you.”

“Being taken care of has very rarely involved getting tied up, in my experience.”

“You don’t want to do anything, so I’m going to make sure you don’t have to,” Caspar says. He rubs Linhardt’s cheek, his thumb tracing the line of his lips. “That’s what I mean by taking care of you. Let  _ me _ do all the work.” 

“By all means.” 

Caspar pulls away and gets to his feet. Linhardt, feeling cold and a little exposed, watches as he gets out the oil they use as lubricant and puts some on his fingers. Caspar’s facing him, so Linhardt does not actually get to see what that hand is doing; but he does get to see the look on Caspar’s face, a very Caspar-esque expression of total concentration. 

It goes on for a few minutes, but Linhardt says nothing, just watches. After a little bit, Caspar moans, then looks up abruptly, almost guiltily, as if seeing whether Linhardt heard the noise. Their eyes meet. “You’re watching me, huh?” 

“Well, yes. I’m not sure what else I should be entertaining myself with,” Linhardt says. “Why do you ask? Are you shy?”

“Shy? Pssh, no way.” The effect is lessened somewhat by the pleasure in his voice - his hand is still moving, even as he speaks, and Linhardt can tell the feeling is beginning to be enjoyable. He knows that feeling, and his erection, which began to flag a little when Caspar left him, perks up again in solidarity. 

“So you don’t mind that I’m watching.”

“Of course I don’t  _ mind,” _ Caspar says. “Watch me all you want!” 

So Linhardt does, and Caspar holds his gaze, biting his lip. His breaths are coming fast and shallow now. This would be enough, Linhardt thinks - just to watch, to see Caspar touching himself there for the first time. _ (Was _ it the first time? Linhardt doesn’t know, and doesn’t care.) Linhardt doesn’t need to be touched, doesn’t really need to come, although by now he’s distractingly hard. Were he free, Linhardt would be stroking himself, getting off to the beauty of the image - Caspar’s breathy little moans as he worked himself open.

“You ready for me?” Caspar says at last. 

_ “Yes,” _ Linhardt says. Any sense of apathy’s long-gone; he can’t disguise his arousal, and doesn’t care to try. “Absolutely. Yes. Please.”

Caspar laughs in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ask so nicely.” 

“I like watching you.” 

“Oh.” Caspar sits on Linhardt’s upper thighs, and takes Linhardt’s dick in one oil-slick hand; the sensation, after going so long without stimulation, is stunning, and Linhardt gasps and jerks at his bonds without meaning to, trying to thrust his hips for more contact, more touch.

“Hang on,” Caspar says. “Be patient. Just a minute.”

And this is different, it’s so different, Linhardt thinks. Normally  _ he’s  _ the cool-headed one, and  _ Caspar’s  _ the one chomping at the bit - the one eager to go as soon as they hit the bed. Linhardt has never before felt so hungry, so  _ mindless. _ He rescinds his earlier thoughts - there’s no way he’d be satisfied just watching, not now. He  _ wants, _ he wants _ so badly… _

Caspar moves up, rising onto his knees and reaching around behind to hold Linhardt’s dick. He positions himself, and Linhardt does his best to hold very, very still. He never knew how different it would feel to be unable to touch; if he could, he’d put his hands on Caspar’s hips, dig his nails into those thighs-

They both groan as Caspar sinks down, lower, slowly but steadily. Caspar pauses with Linhardt only half inside him; he’s tight and hot, and it’s just about the most pleasurable thing Linhardt’s felt in his life. 

“Does it feel good?” Caspar asks, grinning playfully.

_ “Yes,” _ Linhardt says, “it’s so good - Caspar - you’re so good…” 

Caspar seats himself suddenly, and Linhardt moans, his arms tugging at the restraints. He can hardly stand the feeling of everything at once; this overwhelming pleasure is different from any he’s felt before, and he has no way to distract himself from it. Linhardt never thought it would be hard to be passive, but the more he isn’t able to move, the more he wants to.

Caspar lifts himself up; the drag is slow and good. Their eyes meet. Linhardt knows he must look a sight - mouth open, face flushed, hair spread messily across the pillow - but Caspar’s gazing at him like he’s the most beautiful sight imaginable. 

“Just stay there,” Caspar says. It’s silly - he can’t  _ not _ stay there - but Linhardt finds his words comforting, and there’s a little hitch of pleasure in them that makes him feel a little crazy. “Just stay there, and I’ll - I’ll take care of you, Lin.”

Linhardt’s too far gone for any attempt at a scathing comeback. He can only nod; when Caspar begins to move in earnest he groans and throws his head back. If he keeps his eyes open, he knows he’s going to last all of two seconds: Caspar’s body on display like this, Caspar  _ riding him _ \- it would send him over the end, and  _ fast. _

He clenches his eyes shut, hears himself moaning as if from a distance. And Caspar’s voice, saying sweet things - about taking care of Linhardt, and how good Linhardt feels, and how pretty Linhardt is. It’s almost like a dream, Linhardt thinks - the vividness of the sensations and the way they blend together. He can’t focus on anything but his own overwhelming pleasure, the pressure of the orgasm he’s trying to stave off. But it’s a losing battle, Linhardt knows. 

When it’s imminent, he opens his eyes, tries to reach out and touch Caspar - forgetting the bonds, of course, which pull painfully at his wrists. “Caspar…” His voice sounds like a whine, but he can’t muster the effort to even be embarrassed about it. “Caspar, I’m going to come…”

“Do it,” Caspar says, and increases his rhythm; and Linhardt feels his body tense, feels himself tugging at his bonds without meaning to. It’ll hurt later, perhaps, but for now it feels good, the edge of pain making his orgasm sweeter. It feels like it’s torn out of him, fierce and powerful, and by the end of it he’s gasping for breath.

When he’s done, Caspar stays perched on him, looking down on him with sweat beading his brow. “It looked like that felt really good.”

A stray lock of hair tickles Linhardt’s cheek, and he squirms. “It did, but don’t get cocky.”

“No? Even when I’m the one who made you make those noises?”

“Caspar…” Linhardt sighs, then realizes Caspar’s still hard -  _ very  _ hard, from the looks of it. “What about you?”

“What  _ about _ me?”

“You haven’t come yet.”

“Oh, huh,” Caspar says, as if he just noticed. Which isn’t true, of course - but that he was more focused on Linhardt’s pleasure than his own makes Linhardt feel warm. “It’s no big deal.”

“If you won’t let me help, then just come on me or something.”

“Oh,” Caspar says. His eyes get wide for a moment. “Well…”

“I don’t mind, as long as you clean me up afterwards.”

“Okay. Of course.”

Linhardt’s softening dick is still inside him as Caspar begins to jerk himself off. He’s staring at Linhardt as he does so, the directness of that gaze almost unnerving - even when he gets close to the edge he doesn’t look away, although Linhardt sees his expression go cloudy and unfocused with pleasure. He spills on Linhardt’s chest and stomach, and Linhardt watches, fascinated. It’s interesting to be  _ inside _ someone as they orgasm, to feel the muscles contracting so intimately. He wants to explore this at length - to put his fingers or  _ tongue _ inside Caspar, jerk him off and feel his body’s reactions from inside - but now is not the time. Now, Caspar is breathless and still on top of him, sweaty and handsome and tired, and Linhardt is sticky with sweat and come, and his arms are starting to ache. 

“Please let me go,” he says. 

“Oh, right! I’m sorry!” 

When the bonds are off, Linhardt rubs his wrists - they’re a little tender, maybe, but not painful, and the bandage restraining them didn’t break the skin. Despite all his enthusiasm, Caspar was careful tying him up. Part of this whole business of taking care of him, Linhardt supposes. Rather nice, he thinks, even if it was a little out of the blue.

Caspar gets a damp cloth and wipes Linhardt down. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, sounding shy in a way Caspar very rarely is. “Did you enjoy that?” 

Linhardt’s normal reaction would be exasperation - he’s already  _ said _ how much he liked it, why does he have to repeat himself? - but Caspar’s tone is enough to make him pause. “Caspar, it was amazing,” he says. Caspar obviously cares a lot about what Linhardt has to say about this - and, honestly, it  _ was _ amazing. Linhardt can’t begrudge him a little praise. “It was extremely pleasurable. I will be thinking about it for a while, and I would enjoy doing that again sometime - whenever you’re wanting it, really.”

“Well!” Caspar says, and laughs. He’s self-conscious, Linhardt can tell, but also pleased. “Good!”

“Did you like it, too?”

Caspar lies down on the bed next to him. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I really did. I… I wasn’t expecting to, but I liked it a lot. Watching you was the best part.”

“Excellent,” Linhardt says, and yawns. “Oh, my. It’s shocking how tiring doing nothing can be.”

“Typical,” Caspar says. “But… I don’t mind if you sleep now, even if it’s the early afternoon.”

“That’s good. If you  _ did  _ mind, I might go as far as to say we’re incompatible.” 

“I’m  _ way  _ too used to you to mind things like naps,” Caspar says. He pulls Linhardt close, shifting so Linhardt’s head rests on his shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Linhardt closes his eyes and places a hand atop Caspar’s chest to feel the gentle rise and fall as he breathes.  _ This, _ he thinks,  _ is bliss. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to visit me on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/doop_doop2)


End file.
